Steam & Sorcery

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  “From now on, you’ll have an armed escort, I’m afraid. But these children would lose their minds if they were confined inside every day.” Merrick gave her a rueful half smile. “I’d send them up to Hadrian Hall in Northumberland, but I’m afraid the problems would simply follow them.”

  “Who or what do you think is behind this danger? Is it the vampyres they were fighting when you met them?” Some things weren’t considered proper to talk about, but she needed to know what she was facing.

  “Yes. Vampyres have never been known to work in groups before, much less cooperate with humans. Now we seem to have a large-level conspiracy between some highly placed men and several of the undead. I’m afraid that my wards are caught up in the middle of the problem, having been seen and identified by some of the creatures.”

  “Does this tie in to your mysterious Order? The one I’m not supposed to even know about, according to Mr. Berry?”

  Merrick shoved his hand through his hair, wishing he knew what to do. On the one hand, he’d sworn an oath of secrecy. On the other, she needed to know what she could be facing. She was part of his household now, and they’d already hurt her once.

  “The Order of the Round Table is England’s oldest,” he began. “It’s not a myth, as most people believe, but a real organization, founded by the Romano-British chieftain Artorius and his druid friend Merlin. From the very beginning, they collected warriors with certain powers, abilities that would help them combat enemies both human and otherwise. The Order still exists today, with membership mostly descended from Arthur’s original cadre.”

  “Sir Merrick,” Caroline mused, her brow wrinkled slightly in thought. “Sir William MacKay—MacKay, son of Kay. Mr. Berry—from Bleoberis? I’ll assume his father or older brother or uncle is a baronet?”

  “You know your Arthurian legends.” He bowed his head in approval. “Bleoberis isn’t one of the more popular Knights in modern adaptations of the tale. And yes, he was an ancestor of Edwin’s, whose nephew, by the way, is the current Knight of the Order, while Edwin’s older brother retains the baronetcy.”

  “The Duke of Trowbridge’s family name is Lake,” she mused. “Du Lac? No wonder he’s the head of your Order. He’s descended from Sir Lancelot.”

  “And Arthur’s granddaughter, who married one of Galahad’s sons. Mordred was Arthur’s only son, but he and Guinevere did have a daughter.”

  “Gavin—for Gawain?” Ah yes, she’d met Trowbridge’s secretary at Gideon’s house.

  “Of course.” Merrick smiled at her perception.

  “And Hadrian? That doesn’t tie into any of the Knights I’ve ever heard of, though I suppose Emperor Hadrian built his wall at about the same time in history.”

  Her quick absorption of the information and the way she followed the strands of the tale without appearing either shocked or skeptical caused a surge of pride. His aunt had chosen well—this was an ally he’d be delighted to have by his side. “My distant ancestor was a bastard son of said emperor, when he visited Northumberland in the second century. His mother was a druid priestess—and the daughter of a Knight who bore no sons. Apparently when he was ready to retire and finding himself without a direct male heir, Sir Tristram chose to bring his half-Roman grandson into the Order, establishing my lineage in the organization.”

  “Fascinating.” Her intent, intelligent expression bore out her words. “Now how does that relate to this current problem with vampyres?”

  To his own surprise, he told her. Everything. About his father’s death and his own initiation at the age of twenty-two, and his training with Sir William. Even up to the missing Babbage engine cards and his search for a traitor within the Order. Throughout his recitation, she didn’t say a word, though her brilliant green eyes grew round with horror.

  “Is there any way I can help?” Somehow he’d known those would be the first words out of her mouth.

  He shook his head. “Just watch over the children. That’s more than enough—more than I have any right to ask.”

  Her chin set stubbornly as she stared him down. “Merrick, I’ve seen a great deal of the worst of human behavior. I would never voluntarily leave any child, even ones more competent in some ways than myself—to face that kind of evil alone.”

  He gave in to the urge to reach out and touch her uninjured hand. “I’ve told you my story, Caro. I would know yours, beyond that you’re from Somerset, illegitimate and part leannan sidhe. How did you go from being a gently bred lady to a governess?”

  She shrugged. “As I’ve said before, it’s not an unusual tale. My mother was the daughter of a peer. Her father loved her dearly and didn’t disown her when she fell pregnant with no husband in sight. She continued to run his household, and he doted on the pair of us until the day he died. Unfortunately, he was careless when it came to his legal affairs, and he didn’t specify our continued subsistence in his will. His lordship, my uncle, wasn’t inclined to support his disgraced sister and her offspring, so out we went, with little more than the clothes on our backs. My mother…broke, somehow. Her mind was never altogether sound again. So it fell to me to support the pair of us—first at a small village school, then as a private instructor after my mother died.”

  “And you were how old?” He’d like to find her uncle and throttle the man.

  “Sixteen.”

  He barely suppressed a growl. “And which peer of our realm is your relative? It occurs to me I may know the man—though I can’t think of one with the surname Bristol.”

  She bit her lip, then admitted, “I took the name Bristol from the nearest city to the village where I taught. It’s not my real name.”

  “Caro—who is he?”

  “No.” She met his gaze, determination evident in hers. Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, she turned her hand in his, squeezing tightly. “I’m not going to tell you, Sir Merrick. Please just let it go.”

  He didn’t have it in him to deny her—not while she lay there, vulnerable. But one of these days he was going to find out and make the bastard pay. He reached out and cradled her face in his free hand. “Caro—” Even he didn’t know what he’d been about to say. He couldn’t fight the urge to see if she tasted as good as she looked. Moving slowly, giving her plenty of time to push him away, he leaned forward and lowered his lips to hers.

  The barest brush of skin against skin burned like an electrical shock. This wasn’t faery magick or a Knight’s power, but the raw, elemental earth magick of male and female. He kissed her again, this time with enough pressure to actually call it a kiss. It still wasn’t enough. Far from rebuffing him, Caro clutched his head with her good hand, her fingers spearing through his hair to hold him closer.

  “Ahem.”

  Merrick jumped back from Caro and she recoiled back against the headboard, her face flaming a vibrant pink. They both turned guilty faces toward the bedroom door.

  The expression on Dorothy’s face was more amused than disapproving, but over that was strain and even fear. Merrick got to his feet without even knowing he’d done so. “Aunt, what’s the matter?”

  “I arrived home just now—at the same time as Edwin and Tommy returned from the museum. Merrick—they were attacked. I think we’d better summon Mr. Wallace.”

  “Again?” Merrick’s jaw dropped. “Are they both…”

  “Alive? Yes. Edwin suffered a few bruises, I believe, and Tommy sustained a slash on his thigh from a sword-cane. Had it been deeper, it could have been deadly.” Dorothy’s eyes flew then, to Caro’s bandaged wrist. “And then, nephew, I think you’d better explain to me exactly what is going on.”

  Merrick nodded. “Yes. Tonight, we will have our council of war, including you, Edwin and Caro. And heaven help our enemies.”

  Chapter Nine

  Several days had passed since the incident in Regent’s Park, and Caroline hadn’t spent so much as a moment alone with Merrick. In fact, she’d begun to suspect he was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him. She and the childr
en had mostly recovered from their injuries, rapidly enough that she was beginning to believe she might be capable of subconsciously aiding in their healing.

  As Caroline dressed, she looked over at the flowers on her dresser—the first bouquet had mostly wilted, but the second was bright and fresh. Mr. Gideon MacKay was such a thoughtful young man. He’d visited yesterday and even invited her to join him at the theatre this weekend. Caroline had declined of course, to Dorothy’s dismay. Gideon was a nice man, but Caroline didn’t feel comfortable encouraging him.

  It was a bright, sunny Thursday morning, but today she wasn’t allowed to take the children for a walk. Merrick had commissioned a photographer to come and take portraits of each of his wards. Caroline and Dorothy had used a little powder to hide the last faint traces of Wink’s black eye, while Sally and Becky had wrestled the younger ones into their best clothing. The photographer had chosen a little-used sitting room on the main floor for the portraits, and set up his equipment. Caroline was to bring the children in one by one and see that they behaved. Thankfully, Dorothy had volunteered to assist.

  “You know, we really should get one of all of them together—and perhaps with Merrick as well—a family portrait as it were.” Dorothy combed a lock of Jamie’s hair off to the side. His cast was quite hidden by his proper jacket, and seated on a high stool, he looked positively angelic—until he smiled—then he practically sprouted horns and a tail, there was so much devilment in him. Still, Caroline thought he was adorable.

  “I think that would be an excellent idea.” Caroline shook her finger at Jamie when he went to move. “I’d even pay for a copy of a photograph of all five of them from my wages.” No matter how many students she went on to have in her lifetime, she already knew none would touch her heart like this raggle-taggle group.

  “I’ll go fetch Merrick and the other children.” Before either Caroline or the photographer could speak, Dorothy was out the door.

  The photographer finished the photos of Jamie, then gestured at his assistants, who whisked away the chair and replaced it with a sofa, while Jamie stood next to Caroline and watched. Jojo, his mechanical monkey, hopped up on his shoulder at the snap of Jamie’s fingers, so Caroline took care to keep back.

  Soon the rest of the group tumbled through the door, Merrick more reluctantly following along behind them. Sally, Becky, Dorothy and Caroline crowded against the far wall of the room, while Merrick and Mr. Berry stood as far from the women as possible, all watching as the photographer positioned each one. The first shot would be of the five children alone, though he reluctantly agreed to allow George, Jojo and Lark into the picture. Tommy sat in the middle with George lying at his feet, flanked by the girls. The two younger boys perched on the arms of the sofa, Piers next to Nell, and Jamie beside Wink. They all looked so happy together, it overcame their natural reluctance to be captured on film, and they smiled brilliantly out at their audience. Then that pose was over, and it was time to add Merrick and Dorothy, who sat on stools behind the sofa, looking down on their charges.

  “We want one with Miss Caro,” Jamie called as Merrick moved to leave. “She’s family, too, now, isn’t she?”

  “Not really…” Caroline began.

  Dorothy nodded. “I believe she is. Caro, come on up here.”

  “But I’m not dressed for a portrait.” Though her new day dress in muted sage-green with a modest hoopskirt was certainly finer than anything she’d owned before a week ago.

  “Nonsense. Now come stand on the other side of Merrick. Tiny as you are, you won’t need to sit to match us in height.” Dorothy was clearly not going to tolerate an argument. Even Merrick nodded curtly, so Caroline moved to stand beside him.

  “She could sit on Sir Merrick’s knee,” Nell offered helpfully.

  “I’ll stand,” she assured the children. “And if I’m in the photo, then Mr. Berry should be as well. Perhaps another stool can be found so he can sit beside Miss Dorothy?” All the adults but her were tall, as was Tommy. Perhaps it was a trait common in families of the Order.

  “Excellent thinking, Caro.” Merrick didn’t even turn to look at her as he spoke, just gestured for the tutor to join them. “Edwin, come along, and bring that chair from the corner.”

  With a little more direction from the photographer and his assistants, the large group portrait was taken. At the last minute, Merrick managed to slip his arm behind Caroline’s waist and draw her in closer to the heat of his body. Hopefully, her wide startled eyes didn’t come out in the finished photograph. Really, what was the man thinking?

  Finally, the ordeal was over, and the Hadrians departed, along with Mr. Berry, Sally and Jamie, who could now change back into play clothes. Nell opted to watch while Piers and then Tommy took his turn. The girl watched the oldest boy with a wistful smile while leaning up against Caroline companionably in the far corner. Hmm, perhaps here was one of the children who didn’t feel like a sibling to at least one of the others. Caroline made a mental note to talk to Merrick about that potential quagmire.

  “Sir Merrick—he’s an awful handsome bloke, isn’t he?”

  Caroline was so proud of Nell for pronouncing all her H’s that she almost missed what the girl had said. Good lord, Nell wasn’t developing romantic feelings for Tommy, but for her guardian. Oh dear! “I suppose he is, in an older, distinguished sort of way,” Caroline replied carefully. Older, indeed. The man was clearly in his prime. He couldn’t possibly be close to his fortieth birthday.

  “He’s not that old, Miss Caro. You’re close to the same age, aren’t you? He isn’t too old for you.”

  Oh, goodness, Caroline had been wrong again. Nell didn’t have feelings for Sir Merrick—probably not for Tommy either. The little minx was matchmaking. That wouldn’t do at all. It was bad enough, Caroline couldn’t forget his kiss.

  “He’s my employer, Nell.” She kept her tone gentle, but firm—her proper governess voice. “And a baronet. That makes him far, far above my touch.” Regrettably.

  “We’ll see.” Nell tucked her hand into Caroline’s and sighed. “Means he shouldn’t have us here either, and look how that turned out.”

  Caroline was exhausted by the time she reached the ladies’ lending library that afternoon for her half-day. Aside from the photography, it seemed she’d spent most of the morning arguing. She wasn’t even counting the discussion with Nell about Merrick. No, it had been simply one argument after another with her employers.

  First, she’d reminded them that the children were most likely still in danger. Caroline had maintained that she should forego her half-day and remain with her charges. That had been denied by Dorothy, who’d decided to personally supervise their daily walk to the park. Since the older woman was at least as capable in a crisis as Caroline, and probably more so, Caroline had been forced to concede.

  Then there was the great transportation debate—which had been less rational discussion and more forceful commands. Caroline had planned, as always, to walk. Sir Merrick wouldn’t hear of it. She’d been ambushed at the door by Debbins, who’d insisted on driving her in Sir Merrick’s private coach, with an armed footman on the back, who’d escorted her right up the library steps. Really, it was becoming something of a farce. The man ignored her for days, then in one morning he’d put his arm around her in a photograph and ordered her to travel under armed guard.

  All Caroline wanted to do at that point was spend the entire afternoon reading and avoid thinking about Hadrian House and its occupants altogether.

  Unfortunately, even that degree of peace was to be denied her. The main reading room was filled with what she, Dorothy and the others in their reading group privately referred to as the “Chatterbox Society.” The group of well-off young matrons read nothing but the latest sensation and came here mainly to discuss beaux, fashion and society gossip. Loudly. With a great deal of giggling.

  Caroline winced at a particularly shrill shriek and tried to sink deeper into her own chair, hidden slightly from the others by a
low bookshelf.

  “Melinda, you absolutely must get Rutland to take you to the Sorcery Society’s masked ball tomorrow night. The occult vibrations in the air are just so…so stimulating, if you get my meaning. Why last week, I even danced with an actual vampyre. I was so terrified I could barely catch my breath, but I needn’t have worried. He was pale, with fangs of course, but otherwise polite as could be.”

  A vampyre? At a ball? Certainly not. Still, Caroline gave up all pretense of reading her book on educational theory and settled in to eavesdrop without feeling the slightest twinge of remorse. If they’d already perfected that formula Merrick was searching for, it could have actually happened.

  “No, Deborah, you goose. Getting tickets is the easiest thing in the world. Any of the members can invite you.” The speaker went on to name several possible candidates, which Caroline hurriedly scribbled down in the notebook where she’d been jotting tips about teaching language skills. Surely, Merrick or Dorothy would know one of these pillars of society. The more they talked, the more she grew certain that Merrick needed to visit this Sorcery Society, and the more determined she became to attend herself.

  Sir Merrick, however, was more difficult to convince than she’d anticipated.

  “It’s nonsense,” he told Caroline when she bearded him in his library late that evening after he’d returned from his club—which she’d begun to suspect was really where he met with his Order. “I don’t see any point in following up on the gossip of a bunch of silly hens.”

  “They specifically mentioned a vampyre who looked and acted human.” She tapped her fingers restlessly on his desk, then stopped to wrap her arms around her torso. Why had she come down to speak with him in nothing more than her nightgown and wrapper?

  “Sit down, Caro.” He ran one hand through his hair, already disheveled as if he’d been doing that for some time. “I’m sorry. Do you really think this might mean something other than a mindless entertainment for bored ladies?”